The Promise
by astrophilia
Summary: Master Peregrin keeps a promise ... (movie-verse!)


**Author :** Steffi/ astrophilia   
**Summary :** Master Peregrin keeps a promise... (set right after Pip finds Merry on the battlefield in ROTK)   
**Rating :** PG   
**Disclaimer : ** Everything in here is not mine but belongs to their respectful owners, JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema etc. This is non-profit fanfiction.   
**Category: **Drama  
**Beta-ing :** The loveliest Lisande ... thanks a lot!  
**Please note:**1. English is not my mothertongue, so bear with me please (I'm honestly doing my best!)   
This story is **movie-verse**, meaning scenes from the books are not existant or not important. I'm doing my own thing here :o) Regard it as a deleted scene or scene to come in the Extended Edition of ROTK. 

**The Promise**

"Don't worry, Merry. I will take care of you." Pippin said with tears in his eyes, looking at his friend who had drifted into unconsciousness again. Carefully he pulled a rug over Merry and lifted him up a little. Then he embraced his friend tightly. Merry was not well, he had to take care of him. Pippin was not the smartest one, but this he understood perfectly. Merry needed him. Now. He remembered the expression on Merry's face when Gandalf and he had left Edoras, the despair and fear. Merry had almost cried. If he had not been such a fool of a Took - then he could have stayed with Merry in Edoras, where it was safe. He could have taken care of him. They would have gone to battle together. He would not have been doomed to find Merry lying underneath some filthy orc on the battlefield. What if Merry would... no, it was a way too horrible thing to even think of. 

Since they had left the Shire, which seemed to be a whole age ago, the idea that Merry and he himself might not return together never had entered Pippin's mind even once. Merry had always been his best friend, since they had been small children; running around in the Shire playing tricks at their parents, at Bilbo and of course Gandalf, the wizard. They had been inseparable, like brothers. Never would you find one of them without the other. So Pippin had never even thought of the possibility that one of them could find death in this battle. It was just not going to happen. At least he had thought so until now. A tear fell from his cheek as he watched Meriadoc, holding the lifeless body in his arms. And no matter how hard he tried, he could not imagine returning to the Shire without Merry Brandybuck. 

Merry moaned softly. His curly hair was falling into his face in small strands, he was pale. Very pale. Too pale. He looked so vulnerable. Pippin knew he had to help Merry now, to do something, anything. Yet not a simple idea would come to his mind, as a spell had paralised him he eyed his wounded friend . Far away he could see Aragorn and Legolas, both searching the fields for wounded warriors and riders. 

"Help." He whispered, but it was nothing more than a sigh. 

"Help." He repeated a little louder, until he finally made it to scream. "Help! Help! Help!" he cried desperately and would not stop even as Aragorn and Legolas approached him. The Elf knelt beside him and took his hand and suddenly Pippin felt himself calming down. Meanwhile Aragorn had realised the reason for the Hobbit's agitation, gently he touched Merry's forehead. 

"He is wounded." Pippin said almost crying. "He is... you must help him, Aragorn, you must help him... he is my best friend, you must..." 

Aragorn did not answer, but lifted the little injured Hobbit up and carried him as quickly as possible to the city of Minas Tirith. Pippin tried to keep up, but it was hard as Aragorn was twice his size and almost running. "Wait! Please wait!" he cried, but the human did not hear him. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and (on) looking up he saw Legolas standing right beside him. The insistent blue eyes of the Elf rested upon the Halfling, and there was something in them Pippin could not define. It was a scary mixture of pity, hope and grief. 

"Will he recover, Legolas?" Pippin asked with a shaking voice. 

"I do not know, Pippin." The Elf answered honestly. "But do not worry Peregrin. Where there is life, there is hope. And there has always been a lot of life in Meriadoc. Come, we shall follow Aragorn and see what can be done for him." 

When they arrived, Aragorn had already attended to Merry. On the sight of Merry, lying pale and weak in the far too big bed, Pippin cried his friend's name and rushed to him. 

"Merry... Merry, can you hear me?" 

"No, he can't." Aragorn replied in a low voice. Pippin startled and turned towards Aragorn, who looked very concerned. 

"He was poisoned by the Nazgul, right when he stabbed the witchking of Angmar. I've tried my best to heal his wounds... but..." 

Pippin had grown very pale on hearing the news, he felt his legs weakening. No, no... that... no... he shook is head. 

"Hobbits are hard-bitten Pippin. They can cope with so much more than humans can. You must not despair..." 

"Is he going to die?" Pippin asked quietly, not daring to face Aragorn. The human gave him a half smile. 

"What happened the last time you asked me that question?" Pippin did not understand at once, but then he recalled the night on the weathertop and Frodo. 

"Frodo survived." He answered. Aragorn nodded. 

"Indeed, he did. There is always hope, Pippin. Always. Even if it is not obvious, but it is always there. Merry has proved himself to be courageous and brave. He fought a Nazgul. I think there has got to be more to defeat Merry than this, Pippin." 

The Hobbit smiled gracefully at the human, now filled with some hope again, and nodded. Yes, he knew that Merry was strong. He would make it. He had to. He, Pippin, was nothing without his friend. 

A whole day he sat watch at Merry's bed, sitting right beside him, holding his hand. The wounded Hobbit gave no sign of noticing it, neither was there any sign of him getting better; but his breath was steady and he did not get worse either. So the hours passed without much of a change, Pippin grew tired, but he refused to take even a bit of sleep. All he knew was that his friend needed him now, and that he would not leave his side. He had promised not to, and he would hold on to his word. 

Late in the evening, Gimli came to him, looking at the Halfling for a moment, then gently touching the Hobbit's shoulder. 

"Laddie, you should get some sleep." 

Peregrin shook his head. 

"No." he said. "I cannot. I must stay with Merry. I promised to." 

"Aye, lad. As you wish. I just thought you should have some rest. You're no use for Merry in that state." The dwarf answered. 

"I don't care. I won't leave him. I gave my word. What if he wakes up and finds I'm not at his side?" 

Gimli sighed and nodded slowly. 

"I thought you would say so." He remained silent for a short moment, then he said in a low voice that was quite strange for a dwarf: "You're a good lad, Pippin. And an even better friend. Merry can consider himself lucky to be your fellow, Master Took." 

Pippin stared at Gimli, not knowing what to answer. Usually people called him a fool, irresponsible, sometimes even a tease. The idea that someone was lucky to be befriended with him was completely new to Peregrin Took. 

Gimli gave the Hobbit an encouraging smile and left the chamber. Pippin squeezed Merry's hand a little more. 

"I won't let anything happen to you." He whispered. 

Late was the hour when Aragorn came to visit the Hobbits. He found Merry still lying unconsciously , slightly shivering, whilst Pippin had finally fallen asleep. His head had sunken on the blanket, but his hand was still clutching Merry's. Aragorn knew at once, that Pippin had not meant to fall asleep... but that the weariness and exhaustion had simply overpowered him. 

Despite the terrible battle that lay behind them, and despite Merry's serious illness, it was a beautiful sight. The scenery could not have been of more peace, friendship and trust. Aragorn thought it was the embodiment of all the reasons that made war worthwhile. The human was tired of the battles, the dead, the despair, the losses, the suffering. He wanted nothing more than to go back to Rivendell or Mirkwood, to dwell with the Elves or to find some other peaceful place. He wanted to leave all the terrors behind him, for once and forever. 

Seeing Merry and Pippin like this, Aragorn realised that there was no escape of war. And that all the innocent folks of Middle-Earth, such as Hobbits, had to be protected, at any cost. There were times when Aragorn believed that all this was in vain... and then some unimposing creatures turned up and worked wonders. Accomplished deeds that people put past them. Merry was only a Hobbit, only 3 feet tall, but he had made the difference where an army had failed. Yes there was hope... it was there where you would expect it the least. 

If there was one thing that the human had learned during his eighty-seven years on earth then it was the fact, that there was more to every person than met the eye. 

His eyes rested upon the Hobbits, Merry and Pippin, who were so much closer to each other than they thought they were. Sam was a true friend and servant to Frodo; he would have died for his Master. It was a different thing with Meriadoc and Peregrin. They had grown up together; they shared so much, particularly their humour. And whether they were aware of it or not, they depended on one another. Merry could not be without Pippin, and Pippin needed Merry. They were like two bodies sharing only one soul and heart. If you took away one of them, the other one was nonviable. 

Aragorn approached and carefully pulled a rug over Pippin. He sighed softly. If Merry died, he did not know what would become of Pippin. 

But Merry did not die. Whatever it was that kept his wounded body and soul alive, whatever it was that made Hobbits so hard- bitten; it would not admit defeat by death. And so on the next morning Meriadoc Brandybuck opened his eyes and found Pippin at his side, still sleeping. From the expression on his friend's face Merry could guess that it was no steady sleep, and Pippin looked so pathetically worn-out and exhausted, that Merry began to worry about him. 

Meriadoc himself felt incredibly tired though he had just slept for a whole day. He had dreamed about horrible things... that the Shire was all burnt down, the Orcs had overtaken Hobbiton, and that Pippin was dead. And this had been the worst, the most terrible part of it. He still felt empty somehow; but the sight of Pippin right beside him filled him with joy. 

Then Pippin started to mutter, his sleep got even more unsteady, his lips winced. "No…" he muttered. "No… no". His voice got more excited, desperate almost. It was clear he was having a bad dream. Merry frowned and gently shook Pippin, until he woke up. The Hobbit opened his eyes, looked around tiredly and somehow confused as if he did not recall the events that had brought him here. Then he seemed to realise, slowly he turned his head to Merry again; staring at him with pure amazement und disbelief for a moment, before he exclaimed: 

"You're awake!" 

Merry smiled. Pippin could not described the feelings that rushed through him; to see his friend smiling and on the way of getting better after having been through so much fear and despair. 

"So it seems. How long did I sleep?" the other Hobbit asked. 

"One day and a night." 

"Were you here all the time?" 

"Yes, of course." Pippin replied. 

"Why?" Merry asked, slightly surprised. 

"Because I promised to." 

Again Merry smiled weakly. 

"I knew I could count on you, Pip…" 

_-End-_


End file.
